PERFORMANCE IN FELICIA HEMANS'S "THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA'S TOMB" (80-82)
Many of the pieces in Hemans’ collection contemplate the multiplicity of performances that occur beside a grave. Reading her work made me newly aware of the complex dynamic occurring. The deceased is performing or being performed by those who determined the sculpture and epitaph of the tomb. The mourners are performing for “present” dead as well as each other and, likely, the divine. The delicate dance of conflicting motivations and audiences makes a cemetery, which we might initially and naively imagine to be a place of stark honesty, instead a fascinating mosaic of sometimes conflicting performance pieces. Placing the reader beside Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s grave, “The Queen of Prussia’s Tomb” (80), Hemans attempts to embody these complex dramatic acts using a figure that was later a significant touchstone in German filmmaking.
Although I was not familiar with her story, Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz seemed to be a unique combination of celebrity, desire, modesty, and national pride with few parallels in our modern world. Kate Middleton lacks the gravitas and self-sacrifice, Angela Merkel is absent the sensuality and drama of a life cut short at only thirty-four. Because she was a constant performance as a representative of her nation to the world and as an inspiration to her own people in time of trauma, her tomb is an especially apt place to consider this blending of the personal and patriotic, the actual and the intended.
Hemans emphasizes the way that sculptor Christian Daniel Rauch has depicted the Queen “in perfect rest reclined,/ As one beyond the storm” (9-10). The subject, who apparently died with nine young children well before her fortieth birthday, is “performed” as merely enjoying a brief respite from the harried tasks of life. Her “folded hands [and] calm pure face” (13) reflect a serenity and peace that she rarely had the good fortune to experience; her homeland was devastated by Napoleon and she, in particular, was used as a pawn for his demonstrations of dominance. Despite these hardships, we are reminded that “She whose high heart finds rest below,/ Was royal in her birth and woe” (23-24). Her grave becomes an encore for the dignity and honor that she brought to her brief opportunity on life’s stage. The tone, at this point, is carefully calibrated not to slip into a maudlin portrait of a woman for whom death is better than life… instead the implication hovers in the background that she might rise again to welcome an era that would better recognize her grace and integrity.
The piece becomes more emotionally fraught as the conclusion approaches; the irony of Prussia’s resurrection after the queen’s demise becomes the focal point. And yet, the power of her performed name is transformative for those that worked to redeem her land. Hemans tells us, “Then was her name a note that rung/ To rouse bold hearts from sleep, Her memory, as a banner flung/ Forth by the Baltic deep” (43-46). The queen’s performance in life becomes a wellspring of determination and courage for those who witnessed, or learned second-hand, of her actions. The tragedy of her youthful demise only intensifies the potency of her performance in the minds of her people – in dying she became far stronger than her enemies could ever have imagined. Her tomb captures the ageless, uncorrupted beauty and vivacity of her people’s goddess and muse.
The concluding tone is especially interesting – the poet mourns for those on earth who cannot yet experience the total triumph of Louise’s efforts because their reception remains clouded by her (comparatively trivial) earthly demise. Her nation’s recovery may have occurred when the Queen was no longer present to witness that success, but for those who visit her graveside in the garden of Charlottenburg Palace or read Hemans’s stirring account, her performance in history remains vivid and evocative. For the oppressed, and in the context of "Records of Women" specifically those whose genius is bound by gender perceptions, the Queen's living artwork is a text still being completed by those who echo and reflect her meek but undeniable bravery.
PERFORMANCE IN FELICIA HEMANS'S "THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA'S TOMB" (80-82)
Many of the pieces in Hemans’ collection contemplate the multiplicity of performances that occur beside a grave. Reading her work made me newly aware of the complex dynamic occurring. The deceased is performing or being performed by those who determined the sculpture and epitaph of the tomb. The mourners are performing for “present” dead as well as each other and, likely, the divine. The delicate dance of conflicting motivations and audiences makes a cemetery, which we might initially and naively imagine to be a place of stark honesty, instead a fascinating mosaic of sometimes conflicting performance pieces. Placing the reader beside Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s grave, “The Queen of Prussia’s Tomb” (80), Hemans attempts to embody these complex dramatic acts using a figure that was later a significant touchstone in German filmmaking.
Although I was not familiar with her story, Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz seemed to be a unique combination of celebrity, desire, modesty, and national pride with few parallels in our modern world. Kate Middleton lacks the gravitas and self-sacrifice, Angela Merkel is absent the sensuality and drama of a life cut short at only thirty-four. Because she was a constant performance as a representative of her nation to the world and as an inspiration to her own people in time of trauma, her tomb is an especially apt place to consider this blending of the personal and patriotic, the actual and the intended.
Hemans emphasizes the way that sculptor Christian Daniel Rauch has depicted the Queen “in perfect rest reclined,/ As one beyond the storm” (9-10). The subject, who apparently died with nine young children well before her fortieth birthday, is “performed” as merely enjoying a brief respite from the harried tasks of life. Her “folded hands [and] calm pure face” (13) reflect a serenity and peace that she rarely had the good fortune to experience; her homeland was devastated by Napoleon and she, in particular, was used as a pawn for his demonstrations of dominance. Despite these hardships, we are reminded that “She whose high heart finds rest below,/ Was royal in her birth and woe” (23-24). Her grave becomes an encore for the dignity and honor that she brought to her brief opportunity on life’s stage. The tone, at this point, is carefully calibrated not to slip into a maudlin portrait of a woman for whom death is better than life… instead the implication hovers in the background that she might rise again to welcome an era that would better recognize her grace and integrity.
The piece becomes more emotionally fraught as the conclusion approaches; the irony of Prussia’s resurrection after the queen’s demise becomes the focal point. And yet, the power of her performed name is transformative for those that worked to redeem her land. Hemans tells us, “Then was her name a note that rung/ To rouse bold hearts from sleep, Her memory, as a banner flung/ Forth by the Baltic deep” (43-46). The queen’s performance in life becomes a wellspring of determination and courage for those who witnessed, or learned second-hand, of her actions. The tragedy of her youthful demise only intensifies the potency of her performance in the minds of her people – in dying she became far stronger than her enemies could ever have imagined. Her tomb captures the ageless, uncorrupted beauty and vivacity of her people’s goddess and muse.
The concluding tone is especially interesting – the poet mourns for those on earth who cannot yet experience the total triumph of Louise’s efforts because their reception remains clouded by her (comparatively trivial) earthly demise. Her nation’s recovery may have occurred when the Queen was no longer present to witness that success, but for those who visit her graveside in the garden of Charlottenburg Palace or read Hemans’s stirring account, her performance in history remains vivid and evocative. For the oppressed, and in the context of "Records of Women" specifically those whose genius is bound by gender perceptions, the Queen's living artwork is a text still being completed by those who echo and reflect her meek but undeniable bravery.